It is 2003. It came too fast. I checked my computer - it was not overclocked, so it hadn't been that. Besides, the house was freezing and snow was coming in through the chimney. Chimneys are covered, i thought, so this should not be hapenning. Another large lump of snow fell wetly in the ashes and I heard a metallic clattering and heavy footsteps on the roof. Or maybe not.
I looked at the stove and the coffe was ready. Finally. After all this time. It takes great patience and skill to properly brew coffee in the arabic manner (also known as turkish and greek in turkey and greece respectively) - unfortunately, during the 10 days in which I was absent from my home, the coffee brewed but I had overlooked the fact that water evaporates. Only a sticky residue, resembling caked mud, remained at the bottom of the "Briki". Two lonesome worms were wriggling against its unwielding surface.
I entered my bedroom. It was bad. Very bad. I opened the small closet and grabbing the shovel I ventured to dig until I could reveal the bed. But that did not work, as - where could I throw the piles of snow that I would dig? So I went back to the closet and picked up the vacuum cleaner. I put it on maximum, despite the prominent warning that was on the power dial. My mother had put it on many years ago, but the writing had faded. Still, I was doubting whether it actually referred to the using the machine to suck snow. After all, snow is not a liquid. Not at these temperatures. But still, I was unsure.
Postponing my plan, I went to turn on the heat and I left to do some shopping. When I returned, I found my neighbours from the lower floor banging on my door furiously and spitting while cursing in French. Already the wet steps in the landing had warned me of the high probability that a catatrophe had already taken place. The wooden floorboards did not do a good job in keeping the water out of their apartment. Thinking quickly, I dashed backwards to the attic window over the roof and entered my apartment.
Armed with 4 pieces of 16-meter long rope, a Soublaki and Scuba-Diving equipment, I set off for the mountains. Things already seemed to be taking a turn for the worse even before I was accosted by the terribly deformed locals of the shadowy mountains. My cellphone rang. It said 'GF' on the screen. And the battery gave out just then. She'd probably think I hung up on her. Nothing could save me.. not distance, nor cold - or even desperate pleas and calls for forgiveness... this required a plan. A good plan.
I unwrapped the cold, stale souvlaki and ate it thoughtfully.